A coming home....

This was my fifth trip to Casa Hogar - four times with Sirva and one time on my own with my family - and it was a truly wonderful experience.  This group of "Sirva-ers" was incredible - full of fun, compassion, depth, dedication, and generosity. I am blessed to be counted among you all.  Thank you.
 
There were two things that struck me more on this trip than on the previous ones.  First of all, it felt like I was coming home.  The time that we have put into building relationships with Cecy and Modesto and with the children has resulted in a rich harvest. We trust eachother and we care about eachother.  There was no hesitant renewal of friendship time - rather it was like greeting your favourite relative who you only get to see once a year.  That felt like such a beautiful gift to me - to be wholeheartedly and unreservedly welcomed into their home and hearts is a great honour that I cherish.  Secondly, I was struck by some odd contrasts - like a flock of lime-green butterflies that rested on a pile of grey dirt and rocks, or a group of us walking through a field, toting our cell phones, ipods and mp3 players, as we passed by our dear friend Moises who was slowly tilling the ground using a plow pulled by his two mules.  I was especially struck with this contrast one day as we travelled in the van along the rutted, dusty road that leads to Casa Hogar.  Here we were, a bunch of rich, white, North American folks, happily listening to Queen's "Fat bottom girls you make the rockin' world go round" as we passed by these homes that we would describe as shacks that line that dusty road and hide in the shadows of the surrounding mountains.  I couldn't help but wonder what life was like behind those walls.  Were those people happy?  Sad?  Suffering?  Content?  It would be terribly ethno-centric of me to assume that because they didn't have the 'stuff' that we surround ourselves with that they must be unhappy.  Who knows what love and sorrows live behind those walls?  Would it, would they, be so different from me?  I was struck more than ever on this trip that we are all divine image bearers, we are all equally loved children of God.  And our one and only advantage, that of material wealth, is not an advantage at all, but can be a burden and a barrier.  Do I truly trust God as my provider?  As my source of joy?  As my source of identity and self-worth?  If so, why do I strive so hard to prove myself, why do I surround myself with so much stuff?  My material wealth should not so much be seen as my right for my hard work and intelligence - after all, who could truly say they work harder than Cecy and Modesto - but rather as a gift from God that comes with an obligation:  to share with my fellow image-bearers.  Hans demontrated this concept in his humble way as he stopped at one of those homes on the side of the dusty road and gave them gifts with no fan-fare, no thank you's needed - just one child of God sharing with another.  So simple, and beautiful and right.
 
I experienced one final study in contrasts as we returned to the land of riches and privilege.  As we walked along the tree-lined Riverwalk in San Antonio, i noticed a man who seemed out of place.  As well- dressed people walked and talked or sat to eat in one of the restaurants that line the riverwalk, this man sat and just watched people as they passed by, seemingly oblivious to his existence.  They must have noticed him, an old, bearded homeless man in a Santa hat; he was terribly out of place.  I passed him by too, but ten steps past him I hesitated and went back.  "Hello Santa," I said.  "Are you taking wishes?"  'No," he replied, "I'm all out of wishes."  I stood and talked with him a while, two image-bearers sharing  thoughts for a moment.  He was wise, articulate, and kind.  He took my hand and noticed my wedding band.  "Cherish your relationship"  he said to me and he encouraged me to look up a poem by Robert Frost entitled "Master Speed" and to read it aloud with my husband.  I promised that I would.  I gave him some money and looked into his eyes as I thanked him and said good-bye, all the while wondering which of us was the good Samaritan after all.

Alana

The Master Speed

By Robert Frost

No speed of wind or water rushing by
But you have a speed far greater. You can climb
Back up a stream of radiance to the sky,
And back through history up the stream of time.
And you were given this swiftness, not for haste
Nor chiefly that you may go where you will.
But in the rush of everything to waste,
That you may have the power of standing still—
Off any still or moving thing you say.
Two such as you with a master speed
Cannot be parted nor be swept away
From one another once you are agreed
That life is only life forevermore
Together wing to wing and oar to oar.

Settling back in....

As I get back settled in to the craziness of 3 kids (who are sick), work, and the never ending responsibilities, I am haunted by Jon’s words on the emotional crash of coming home.  When I was at Casa Hogar I was overwhelmed by the unconditional love that Cecy and Modesto give to the children there.  Learning more about some of the children there and the history of the orphanage and watching how truly happy they can be with so little was very inspiring.  The physical work was very rewarding and I enjoyed every day I spent there.  The group that went was nothing short of exceptional.  They were fun, sometimes crazy, ok quite often crazy,  all the while working tirelessly.  Most importantly, I am grateful for the opportunity to sit on that roof, while cutting tile and learning more about myself than I thought was possible.  I can only hope that what I’ve learned about myself there I will never forget and will make me a better person…

Colleen

A name to a face....

Just wanted to let the group know that as much as they try to get away, they will always be a part of me :-)  Last year Sirva was completely different for me than this year.  This year I wanted to work as much but also wanted to enjoy more of the surroundings.  The views of the mountains, the members of the group and especially the kids.

I made a point of taking the tool belt off and getting to know the names and faces of the kids.  Their pictures will be on my fridge again but instead of calling them the orphans I can use names like Sylvia, Gabie, and Jaqueline.  When you can put a name to the faces the experience becomes that more real.

For the group, just want to say you are very special and I enjoyed it more than I thought I would.  It can be said again that this trip is more for our us than it will ever be for the children.

Thanks again Hans.

A permanent fixture....

Kirk and I left San Antonio at 6:15 AM on Tuesday while the rest of the team continued to enjoy the sleep number beds and hotel cots. The weather was fantastic, the wind was at our tail and at 10:07 AM the text message from Marion advised that the Apple Store in Fort Worth had a Airline Adapter in stock. A detour through Fort Worth to pick up the adapter, a little something in a pink bag that Princess can't wait for the movie star to model and we were on our way again. In keeping with the team theme brunch and lupper stops were at McDonalds. We made great time and found ourselves well into the cold of South Dakota, in Sioux Falls, for the night. Wednesday morning we were on the road before 8 and stopped in Fargo for an early lunch where we were the victims of a random act of kindness as Andy, in a booth across from us, paid for our meal. He was gone before we knew so we have no idea if it was a case of mistaken identity, wrong table or really meant for us. Regardless, it put a smile on our faces.

We had no idea how the border crossing would go. We hoped and prayed for the best, but were fully aware that a thorough examination of our cargo was a real possibility. Surprisingly, it seemed they know we were coming. After the regular "How long? How much? Where? questions the gal asked, "what group were you with?" We answered, "Riverwood Church". She replied, "The rest of the group flew home yesterday?" We confirmed and then she asked if I knew that I was responsible for the contents of all the bags. I said I did and at that she instructed us to have a safe trip home. WOW! Four border crossings without a bag being opened. Coincidence? I think not!!

For me, this trip was a watershed moment. Serving at Casa Hogar has changed from "let's get this done" to "this is a relationship that can last a lifetime". My resolve to learn enough spanish to be able to communicate has strengthened and I now imagine myself a permanent fixture on this trip.

Thank you to everyone that supported us, prayed for us and blogged back at us. Thanks to God for allowing us to experience His goodness in new and exciting ways during this trip. Until next time ....

Arturo

A world turned upside down....

As a first-timer on a Sirva trip, I am surprised at how my experience of coming home has been. I am very happy to see my family and friends again, but my own culture seems to have become so unfamiliar to me. Wednesday, our first day back, I went into a mall to pick up a few things where I discovered for the first time the individuality of our culture here in Canada. Not one person looked up as we passed each other in the parking lot to greet me "Hola", "Buenos Dias", or "Como esta?" As I watched people, I noticed for the first time how people lived in their own worlds… a lonely world where people feel overwhelmed and stressed to meet the deadlines of our complex culture that many of us cannot achieve by ourselves. Another surprise that hit me was my lack of desire to shop. I am a major shopper… I LOVE to shop. But all at once I was confronted by this feeling of how pointless the new shirt and pair of mittens that I held in my hands were, and left the mall empty handed. I could not steer my mind away from those precious children at Casa Hogar and how happy they are with the little they have, despite the atrocities that many of them have suffered.

My time at Casa Hogar feels almost like a dream--a dream that is continuously brought to reality through surprises in my suitcase. My pink water bottle has become one of my most prized possessions as it has the names of a few children from Casa Hogar scribbled on it, and is surrounded by splashes of light yellow exterior paint. I have read the complete blog about three times and have looked through all 309 pictures two times already. As I unpacked, I was surprised to see flecks of yellow paint all over everything, including my orthotics. (how did that get there?) Every time I look at my scabbed arms I am reminded of the beautiful mountains of Mexico and smile and laugh as they are as a result of my tumbling into a cactus! Painful, but a really funny story that I can look back on and laugh.

I thank God that he gave me the opportunity to go on this trip and hope that He will bless me with this opportunity again sometime in the future. God has taught me so many things and changed my life in ways I never expected. As I reflect on my time at Casa Hogar, it seems impossible that I could be so blessed by my time there, when I really went down to bless the wonderful children of Casa Hogar. God is so amazing.

Jenna

Home...

So I'm officially home, my luggage is opened and clothes are strewn about my room in a frantic attempt to find things, I've attended my second day of school since we got back and my first shift back at work was tonight, so I've already been forced into a routine. Sirva 2008 seems ages ago in after the whirlwind of things that greeted me when I got home.

Though coming back feels like jumping from one moving train to another, it also feels like the trains are moving at the same speed in the same direction. I can still see the passengers in the other train and recall the memories and amazing experiences from it. And though I am sad to see the distance that separates us, I know (from past experience) that I will jump back to the other train one day and it will feel just like home.

-Anja

Five times and counting....

SIRVA, five times!  I am so grateful to have had the experience of working on Casa Hogar all these years and to be able to participate in finishing its second floor and the beginning of a second building.  But the physical is only one realm in which building has been going on.

 

The shared experience of serving has given many opportunities to see growth in the lives of those who travelled with us, in the lives of the children and caregivers at Casa Hogar, in the lives of my family, and, yes, in my own life.  I have more and more become aware that it is a great mystery of giving that, when done in the Jesus' name, one receives more than one can give, that God gives unity of purpose to those who keep their eyes on Him, and that prayer is very necessary and effective.  SIRVA can be a challenging trip in many ways, but there is always the wonder of the common experience of working hard, sometimes harder than one thought one could, sometimes with people only beginning to know each other, and receiving back the satisfaction of work well done and the enjoyment of new, true friendships.   

 

I spent the last afternoon shovelling sand for the cement mixer as we poured two floors for rooms in the new building.  The sand pile, which had been sitting in the field for a bit, had many hidden inhabitants, who were all anxious to vacate their residences as our shovels came close to their respective homes.  Salamanders scurried off (one minus the tip of his tail, which had been too close to the end of my shovel), quite a few little grey frogs, and one lovely specimen of a scorpion.  They provided interest and entertainment during the hard job of keeping pails of sand topped up for the cement mix - Jon was setting a very fast pace in an effort to finish for the day.  

 

At the end of the afternoon, the various creatures had all gone off to find new residences, and the freshly poured floors of the new building held promise for a new residence for disadvantaged but loving kids who would some day be able to live, rest and have fun there.  Hmmm,  I'd like to meet them - I think I'd like to go on SIRVA again...

 

v.i.o.n.n.a.